Wherein I must excuse myself to eat shameful quantities of mangos

The cravings have officially hit, along with stretch marks and cankles. Oh, the glamorous pregnancy life! I am sure that's what Fergie was singing about. It all came down the weekend of kyle's mostly annual company trip. We spent a swank weekend at the W hotel eating delicious foods and catching up. This was the first year that I didn't have to answer, "oh I am still in school," when asked about what I do. Unfortunately, that topic only came up a handful of times because of course as a pregnant woman, people mostly want to talk about barf, babies, and cravings. Not the fabulous dream job or the book that is soon to be published. Oh well, not like nursery decor doesn't make me SQUEEEE! with delight...

Anyway, the hubs was terrifically social this weekend and the last night as we rolled into bed near midnight I looked down to discover a complete lack of ankles for the first time in nine months. Naturally, I burst into tears, lamenting this foreign body that seems to have taken over. K of course reassured me that I was just exhausted and yes, still pretty, fat feet and all.

I never EVER get the pre-packaged fruit at the grocery store 'cos it's generally overpriced and all in plastic and not seasonal but last week I had an insatiable urge to buy some mangos. So I bought the small container, took it home, sat on the back porch while my dog frolicked around in the yard and before I knew it, the fruit was gone. I did it again the next night. And then for three days following that. Stomachache? Mangos. Woke up starving at 5am? Mangos. We are currently out, and it's all I can do to stay patient while I wait for Kyle to rip out the carpet in the bedroom so we can go to the grocery store.

Which, seriously - are there any documented occurrences of husbands getting the nesting urge? 'cos Kyle just impulsively (IMPULSIVELY, people) said, "okay. I'll rip out the carpet." Maybe impulsive isn't exactly right because we've been talking about it for weeks but just before he decided and promptly kicked me out of the bedroom, we were still discussing the pros and cons, and I had grudgingly suggested that maybe we wait 'til Spring so our feet won't be cold.

But hey after 48 hours and literally being on our hands and knees scrubbing the darn thing, it looks kind of awesome: